"It's more than I was wearing at the pool this morning."
"Barely," he smiled, his hand on her shoulder now.
"Well, it feels like too much right now," she giggled. She shifted on the seat, lifting her hips, and now the dress was around her hips. "I wish I could just take this thing off, right here. Do you think people would get upset?" Her hand toyed with the hem of the dress, lifting it slightly. He could see her g-string, where it curved over her hip.
"I don't know, Marie. You're practically naked as it is. Do you think people would even notice?"
"You bad man, you," she gasped, laughing. She pulled the back edge of the dress higher so that the entire lower half of her body was uncovered. She felt so free, so bold. So uninhibited!
"Here comes the waiter again," her father whispered. "Better cover up, at least a little, so you don't give him a heart attack."
"I don't care about him, Daddy. It's only you I want to get going," she pouted. Nonetheless, she let the front of the dress fall down over her lap again. In the back, however, it was caught between her body and the wall of the booth, preventing it from going all the way down.
She couldn't really pay attention as her father ordered some wine and an appetizer, because the soft velvet of the plush booth was tickling her along her inner thighs and buttocks. It was incredibly sensual and decadent, especially feeling this right in front of the young male waiter. She smiled up at him, wondering what he would do if he had been able to see what was going on just in front of him.
As soon as the waiter left, Tim turned back to his daughter. She was actually wriggling on the banquette next to him.
"Something feel nice, sweetie?"
"Mm-hm," she murmured. She needed more stimulation, so she lifted a leg and put it over her father's. By leaning forward now, with her legs spread like this, she could bring her little mound into contact with the bench.
Tim looked around. The light was low enough, and the tables far enough apart that he suspected no one would be able to guess what was going on over here. All he had to do was keep an eye out for the restaurant staff, and he could let his sexy little minx of a daughter do just about what she pleased.
Marie was quietly mewling, concentrating on the sensations being created by the friction between the bench and her pussy. God, she was being such a little slut! Her father had his hand on her lower back. It felt nice, warm and strong. Supportive. How weird was that?
He stilled her with a little warning hiss, as the sommelier came back with their wine. She sat up a bit straighter, trying to keep the excitement from overcoming her senses. She moved her leg back onto the bench. Her father's hand never left the bare skin of her back, under her dress. With little circles, he caressed her, his fingers light and his touch loving.
She watched through lust-filled eyes as he went through the ludicrous ritual of tasting the wine. God, couldn't he hurry up so that she could get back to her... her whatever?! Now he was taking the cork from the man. His hand was rubbing over the top of her ass. He insinuated his fingers under the t-strap of her g-string, slipping down into the top part of the cleft of her ass.
She was acutely aware of his manipulations. God, how sexy! He was touching her, here, in a restaurant. He smelled the cork and gave it back to the waiter. His hand pushed lower, dragging her g-string along with it. She wondered if the waiter could smell her from where he stood. Her breathing was shallow, and she stared blindly at him.
The waiter had poured a swallow into her father's glass. With his free hand, he lifted the glass and looked at the color of the wine. His hand was now cupping the globe of her ass cheek, his fingers curving underneath, searching, insinuating themselves deeper and deeper. She leaned forward a little to help him, her ass coming off the bench.
He swirled the glass, looking at how the wine moved inside, before lifting it to his nose. Her tiny g-string was caught around the widest part of her butt, over her hips, and his fingers were so far under her. She could feel his finger reach her ass hole, right there in public! She squirmed on top of his digit, the tiny hole resistant to any penetration. He attempted none, simply circling around, testing her, teasing her.
He took a little sip of the wine, and at that moment, the g-string slipped over her hips, coming to rest at the top of her thighs. The extra room created allowed his finger to slip even further under her, coming to rest against the hot wetness of her sex. She moaned. Both her father and the waiter looked at her.
"Mmmm," she said, desperately trying to appear normal. "That wine looks so yummy. How is it?"
"Well, Marie, let me think." He looked off into the distance. His finger gently probed between the lips of her sopping pussy. "It's sultry, a dark and inviting taste. It's bold and forward at first, but there is mystery in its depths, a kind of insinuation of passion."
The angle was all wrong, she thought. He couldn't get in. She looked over at him. Had he just asked her a question?
"Uh... What did y—you say?"
"I asked if you wanted some."
"Oh. Uh, right. Yeah. Um, yes, please," she managed to say. God, his finger felt so good! The waiter was looking at her kind of funny. She tried to smile calmly at him, to reassure him that everything was fine. Fine? Damn, it was better than fine.
Tim waved the man away, and poured the deep red wine into his daughter's glass. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes. This was no good. Things were progressing too quickly here. He moved his hand out from under her, and she whined in disappointment. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hush, Marie. There's plenty of time." She nodded, looking at him with desperation in her eyes. She loved how he could be both that cute puppy dog and this confident man in charge. She loved that he was agile enough to switch from one to the other at a moment's notice.
She left her g-string caught around her upper thighs, her dress around her waist but draped over her lap. Let him think about what was hidden just behind that lace. Her pussy tingled, and her butt felt warm where he had been caressing it. And what was up with her ass hole? Before today she had never even considered it as a place capable of generating sexual pleasure. Now, it was just as tingly as her sex. She slowed her breathing and took a deep sip of the wine.
"Mmmm," she murmured. "Just like you said." He laughed. She was quite the vixen. Just as adventurous as her mother. Maybe more. He was throbbing in his pants, hard as nails at the sight of her disheveled dress. God, he had to push this envelope. He wanted to see her really slutted out, here in public.
"So, Daddy," she said in a low sexy voice. "Do you like me as a naughty girl? A girl who can't stop herself from doing crazy things?" Her hand toyed with the straps of her chemise, unconsciously pushing them to the side. Her bra straps, black lace, stayed on her shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye while she was doing this. One of the chemise straps slipped over the curve of her shoulder, catching halfway down her upper arm.
He watched her with a mysterious smile on his face. What was he thinking? He seemed like he was capable of anything.
"You can't stop yourself, huh?"
"No, Daddy. I've got no self-control." She giggled, her finger tracing the side of her bra down into middle of her chest, pushing the top of the chemise down with it. "I get an idea, right? And I like can't help but act on it."
He loved watching her doing this. She was so sexy, there in the little booth. Hardly anybody could see them; it was safe, as long as the waitstaff didn't figure it out.
"Mmmm," she purred. "It feels so naughty, so wrong to be doing this." Her finger caressed the inner slope of her left breast, causing little goosebumps to rise. "I don't think you should be with me when I'm in a mood like this."
That finger traced back towards the left now, ascending the hill of her breast, climbing over the exposed lace of her bra. The chemise wouldn't move lower though, and her finger slid behind it. He had to guess what she was doing, but it seemed pretty clear when her breath caught in a little gasp.
"Ooohhh," she breathed. "Daddy, it feels so good, though. How can I stop myself when it feels so...
fucking
... good?" Her upper chest was flushed, he could tell, even in the dim light. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her eyes glazed.
"But maybe it's better this way, Daddy," she smiled. "After all, if I was like this with some guy instead of with you, maybe he'd like try to take advantage of me."
"Hmmm. I would never do anything like that, sweetie," Tim said, smiling. She was so beautiful. She caught her chemise strap and pulled it back into place just as the waiter returned with a basket of bread.
Marie was flying. She felt like she had been smoking pot or something. Her mind was buzzed, her body vibrant. Just by pressing her thighs together, she could give herself little sexual jolts that flew through her like lightning. As the waiter left, her father's hand was suddenly on her back again.
She looked at him and smiled, taking a piece of bread from the basket. She tore it in half as she felt his hand slip up underneath her chemise. It caressed her back possessively. As it crept higher, it pulled her dress up with it so that just the very edge lay in her lap, protecting what little modesty she had left. She simply smiled at her father, giving him permission to do what he pleased.
"So what idea is it that has crept into your pretty little head, Marie?"
"Oh, silly," she giggled. "I told you already."
"Mm. Remind me?" His hand had reached her bra and toyed with it, his thick fingers rubbing underneath it, right at the catch.
"Don't wanna," she teased. Her voice had somehow become this little girl voice, all sing-songy. She hadn't spoken like that to her father in years.
"But you have to, sweetie." His voice was husky, male, so strong. She loved the sound of it. Had loved it, all of her life. It was the voice of home, protection, safety. "You have to, if you want to be naughty." She took a bite of the bread and chewed it slowly, looking at him steadily. She swallowed.
"Do I hafta?" That little girl voice again. He nodded sternly. "I just wanna be naked, Daddy," she trilled happily. "Is that naughty enough?" God, that voice made him wild. His cock throbbed mightily in his pants. The tease was divine.
"You really want to be a bad girl, don't you?" She nodded solemnly, her eyes twinkling. She loved how this was going. It was like a fantasy come to life, one she had never admitted to herself, but one which must have been present for years, considering how strongly she was reacting to it.
With a little twist, her bra came undone at the back, each side pulling to its side rapidly. She gasped, the feelings of freedom and perversion wrestling in her teenaged mind. How could she be this girl? It was like a door had been opened inside of her, and through that door lived a wild and wicked girl, one who would do anything to satisfy the itch between her legs. A slut. God! She was a slut!
"You need to take off that bra now, Marie," he instructed. She looked at him, her eyes smoky and intense. With deft and concise movements, she slipped the strap down her right arm without taking off the chemise strap. She shrugged her shoulders and the cups came off of her breasts under the dress. She pulled the black strap out from under the chemise on her left shoulder and raised her eyebrows at her father.
